


whisper words of wisdom

by BlackBlood1872



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, he counts as a character don't at me, post episode 73
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-20 04:14:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20669147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackBlood1872/pseuds/BlackBlood1872
Summary: They say: it's better to have loved and lostThan to never have loved at all.But in the wakeWhen all you have left are ashesHow can anyone say this could be better?Ben grieves, after.





	whisper words of wisdom

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Beatles [Let It Be](https://youtu.be/HzvDofigTKQ)

Ben's grief comes and goes like waves. Some days he's fine. He can smile and laugh and live life with all the flare he's known for.

Others, he can't even leave his blankets, body weak with despair. He spends hours curled up as small as he can get, choking on sobs with sore eyes and wheezing breath.

He forgets, sometimes, that Peas isn't there anymore. Turns to look at his cage, only to see it missing. Only to remember why. To remember what that corner of his apartment looked like, seen through a dispassionate lens. He forgets, but never for long. And it's always worse when he remembers, because _how_ could he _forget_? He doesn't deserve to forget, doesn't deserve happiness after what happened, what he _let happen_. He should have prevented this, done better, _been_ better. There must have been something he could have _done_.

And the fact that he didn't, just means that this is his fault.

Sammy told him it wasn't. Emily told him. Everyone who dared mention the subject around him told him: _it wasn't your fault_.

But it was. Ben knows it was. He doesn't know what he could have done to prevent it, to keep it from ever being a possibility, but Peas was his responsibility and he failed him and so it's his fault.

He doesn't deserve to forget that.

* * *

Sometimes the grief is a quiet ache in the back of his mind, a heavy grey sky over his soul. Sometimes it's a tsunami that rears back, unnoticed, a good day that’s nothing more than the calm before the storm, until it all rushes forward and engulfs him suddenly, overwhelmingly, drowning him under the impossible weight of his regret and anguish and denial.

"I just want him _back_," he sobs, burying his face in Sammy's chest, tears soaking into his shirt. He can barely breathe, wheezing pathetically, but he can't stop.

Sammy, for his part, doesn't try to reassure him, to lie to him. None of the platitudes mean anything, none of them can fix this or comfort him. He doesn't bother. He just holds Ben close, squeezing him tightly as if to hold his fraying edges together, and lets Ben have his grief. Lets it run its course. Sometimes, that's all you can do.

* * *

It never actually feels real. There's this hole in your life, in your space, this gap where something should be but isn't and never will be again. There are times when it feels normal, the new norm that you settle into and live with. And then there are the days where it's all too noticeable. That uniquely shaped hole in your life shines brighter than a supernova, impossible to ignore, impossible to forget. It's torn and ragged at the edges, the being that was once there ripped away with such force and finality that the wound bleeds and aches and can never, ever heal.

The pain settles into his heart, right next to the part that holds his love. It’s hard to think of the happy times without the memories being soured by the present, but as time passes, it gets easier. It never goes away, he never gets over it, but he gets _used to_ it. It’s a part of his life. He carries it with him and it weighs him down, but it doesn’t stop him. It colors his perceptions, flavors every moment of uncertainty with paranoia, but it doesn’t stop time from marching on, doesn’t stop the tide from pushing him forward.

He hates it with a simmering passion, but he is grateful too; glad that there is something to keep him from freezing in the awful moment, something to buoy him in the midst of his despair.

Of course he wishes it was never necessary, but he can’t turn back time, and all he can do now is live on. Learn from this disaster, and ensure it never happens again.

He doesn’t know if he'll survive, if it happens again.

**Author's Note:**

> in memory of my cat Jack Frost, with us from November 8th 2018 til August 7th 2019


End file.
